Swiftcurrent Creek the sun will settle on dust

The amount of scufflemarks on paws was like a giant arrow pointing north, where the pack had assembled. But it was rally Dovev was no longer privy to.
He stepped across the snowy trample, hanging a good distance away from the meeting, lifting his gray eyes as the male watched silently. They were circling around each other, and he could almost taste the excitement. This whole gathering had a purpose of which he knew- to move. Move, and leave the Creek an empty shell of wolves who had inhabited it for so long. And the white wolf would be left with whatever remnants there was to create some sort of a puppet of a pack and protect what had always been theirs.

Bazi and Scimitar were at the center, standing proud, with the two pups he had heard so much about but never seen before. It was funny that this was the first and last time Dovev might ever lay eyes on a future generation of wolves, ones who would be raised for a different pack. There were the loyal supporters of the alphas, too, such as Kaskara and Kieran. Dovev did not look upon them in distaste, only the traditional impassiveness that he put on whenever something wasn't going according to plan. So he just stood in the ankle deep snow, breath trailing out of his mouth like a brooding volcano and watched the group from his vantage forty or fifty feet away.